Privacy and implicit trust.

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You may not change locks to the premises without written permission from property owner, who must have access to the premises at all times, in case of an emergency.

What a load of bullshit.
The landlord stopped by this morning. *knock, knock, knock. Hmm, UPS? Some sort of mail delivery? I know Tine’s not going to be home until much later. I scooted into the other room to put on pants. *knock, knock, knock. And then the sound that scared me. The tell tale jingle of keys. I knew who it is before I even got to the door. He might as well have held up a sign that said: “Since you don’t answer – I’ll help myself.”

I swing the door open. “Can I help you?!” “Yeah, I need to show the apartment.” It appears he was not expecting a 6′4″ 200lb man inside lil’ole Christine’s place. “Today?!” I ask in horror. “Well, like in a half hour…” I ponder this for a mere second. “Um. No. No, today would be bad.” I see that he’s about to take control of the conversation and tell ME when it would be a good time to clean up everything, store my valuables, and let prospective renters trapse through the place. “Did you talk to Christine about this?” I even gave him a way to lie. “Did you try to call? Because she had the phone disconnected the other day…” He quietly says “No… Are you here durning the day?” I absolutely do not like when people know my comings and goings. “In and out, depending on the day… I’m Kris by the way.” A quick shake of hands. “Bill,” he replies. “Bill, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you give me a call when you want to show the place.” He accepts the note and asks when Christine would be moving out. “End of August.” Just like it says in the letter she gave you with the last rent check I mutter as I close the door on Bill.

If you need to get in my apartment and it’s an emergency. Break the door down. I will accept the fact that if I’m having a heart attack, and it takes you 16.4 more seconds to give critical care – I’ll deal. (But – not just for the smell of burnt popcorn!) Change the locks people. Especially you single ladies. There is a creepy guy who does nothing but cleaning and maintainance on the apartments. Which means that he sees who comes and goes. If Mr. Creepy Guy decides one day to do a little more than house cleaning: he’s got keys!

The new deadbolt just went on. No more suprise inspections. At least for this last month.

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